


Sorted

by espigol_pluma (somarem)



Series: Doha 2009 [2]
Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M, Slash, Sports, Tennis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-05
Updated: 2010-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somarem/pseuds/espigol_pluma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reason why No 1 and No2 arrived late to Player's Party @ 2009 Doha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorted

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't meant to be a sequel to [**_Misunderstood_**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/105358) but it appears to be. You don't necessary have to read it to hopefully understand this one. I have been overtaken by awesomeMIrka and Doha events for some reason.

Rafael woke up with the hotel phone loudly ringing. Trying to place where the noise is coming from, Rafael stretched out his left hand at the bedside table, feeling for it. Roger stirs with his movement twisting towards him right hand swing landing on his waist bringing their bodies closer. _'Ahhh" _escaping from Roger's lips. 

  
_"Calate, telefono"_. Clearing the fog from his mind, he blinks his eyes a couple of times and cleared his throat _"Ello"  _he answered. 

  
_"Ah, Roger, is your headache better?"_ Mirka paused as if waiting for an answer. Rafa could hear loud voices over the phone and a little too loud music to his just woken up ears. He waited for her to continue. 

  
_"They are waiting for you here for some presentation, you think you could handle it?"_ There is an edge in Mirka's voice that only those who knows her well could discern. 

  
Rafa shakes Roger up, but he only swings his hand away from his waist, the cold air suddenly hitting him _"Si,Mirka... we are coming"_ he finally answered. 

  
_"Good"_ she says sweetly, although Rafa is pretty sure he heard gritting of teeth. _"Oh and Roger, swing by Rafa's suite and check on him... yes... Toni called me - he says he's not been picking up his phone.   Might have fallen asleep".   
_

_"Wake up" _Rafa says as he slap Roger's thighs. _"Quince minutos, por favor, Mirka" _he quickly added almost forgetting that she's still on the line. 

  
_"See you later" _she responded in a tone that says you better both be. 

  
_"What?"_ Roger finally answered._ "I can't believe you woke me up? I was up matchpoint at Roland Garros"  _he added with a pout of sorts that he usually reserves for Rafa and rarely works with Mirka. 

  
Rafa was stressed having been the one to pick up the phone and talk to Mirka, but he can't help but ask _"Against who?"_ even if it was just a dream.

  
_"With the best Ass on Tour of course, Feli"  _Roger rolls his eyes. _"As if you need to ask?"  _Pulling Rafa back close to him and stealing a quick kiss. 

  
Suddenly remembering one of them need to be the adult. Rafa started picking up their haphazardly discarded clothes._ "Vamos, Player's Party. I said Mirka fifteen minutes".   
_

They put on their clothes, thankfully quality clothes don't necessarily wrinkle much. Again they have her to thank for that. Unfortunately, Roger's pants suffered a mishap from their earlier activity. Rafa handed him his other pair of jeans and a belt. They have the same height and built albeit for Rafa's extra wiggle room. Roger likes the cut, he picked it for Rafa after all.  It fits, especially with the belt, except even though its black it's not Roger's style at all, a little to chunky. They don't have time to dwell on finer details though, as minutes tick by. 

_  
" I think I have a headache and you fell asleep.. I'm sure"  _now that he had said it, Rafa wasn't quite so sure about it.  A fully alert Roger would have spotted the flaw with that story. 

  
Roger was more concerned about the price they have to pay for their lateness. Mirka's the best PR manager out there but when they make her job more difficult there are always consequences. They are both not looking forward to that. 

  
As they stepped off the elevators, Mirka took one look at them and knew that they got their story wrong. Roger was trying, trying being the operative word - to elegantly stiffle a yawn. Rafa on the other hand was tentatively holding on to his head with his right hand. Thankfully there's not many players littering around the area most have already headed in the banquet hall. 

  
_"Roger, feeling any better?"  _and before he can reply she put her hands in his forehead as if massaging it but was actually pressing with her hands strongly on both side of his head- __

  
_"Aaah - yes a bit better"  _Roger replied now fully awake. 

  
As she brought her face closer to his, for a cheek to cheek kiss she whispers _"Nice, jeans."_  
That's when Mirka saw at the corner of her eye, Rafa hiding his embarrassed smile by covering his mouth and converting it to a rather loud yawn.

  
Both men have their eyes on the floor. They dread what's to come.

  
_"Depending on how you both behave through the reminder of night, later we will discuss your penalty"   _she says softly with a serene smile. Across the lobby, she looks charmingly adorable talking to both her boyfriend Roger Federer and his greatest rival Rafael Nadal. 

  
_"Allez, now that everything is sorted. Let's get this show on the road, shall we"_

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback and Concrit welcome


End file.
